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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. : 



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ENGLAND TO AMERICA 



1876 



A NEW-YEAR'S GREETING 




By W. J. LINTON 




PRINTED BY 

WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO., UNIVERSITY, PRESS, 
CTantbrilige, Hilass. 



Inscribed to William Cullen Bryant and the Members 

of " The Century," in acknowledgment of hospitality and many 

courtesies received 

BY AN ENGLISH MEMBER. 




ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

A NEW-YEAR'S GREETING 



A HUNDRED YEARS ! 
Too long for memory of the justest feud ! 
Last century's quarrel to its end pursued 
And yours the triumph, may not we grasp hands, 
Now each one stands 

Apart from fears ? 

The later war 

Rending your heart, that strife in your own house, 

Well over, fair Peace having smooth'd your brows, 

Let your smile travel to the elder foe ; 

Nor care to show 

A time-heal'd scar ! 

Or would you say — 

" In our great day of danger and distress 
You took the wrongful side " ? So ! Ne'ertheless 
We welcomed unbound Fortune's rolling wheel, 
When 'neath your heel 
Rebellion lay. 



• ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

But did we first 

Mistake ? I trow not ; though, it may be, some 
Dealt falsely in our name. Nor were we dumb 
Whose English justice look'd toward the" Slave, 
Bidding you brave, 

For him, the worst. 



I dare to speak 

For England, since I saw our workmen starve 
By the closed cotton-mills, yet never swerve 
From sympathy : ay ! they, whom your grief slew. 
Still pray'd for you, 

Thouo-h hunsfer-weak. 



From out the crowd 

Of famishing thousands went one only cry : 

" God of the Poor ! give Right the victory ! " 

Their fleshless hands held up your cause to bless. 

Their own distress 

No grudge allow'd. 



So England pray'd. 

O, the real heart of England judged aright 
Your agony : our hope stood through the fight. 
Even in the doubtfullest moment, with the North. 
Is there no worth 

In prayers heart-said } 



ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

Yet, this denied 

(Truly it cannot be — but say it were), 

You in your victory have paused to spare 

Your brothers : we are also of your blood, 

Misunderstood, 

Not less allied. 



Though there were wrong, 

And though our old-time fault had borne ill fruit, 
Still would I plead 'gainst all that maketh mute 
The claim of kindred. Nay ! why should I plead ? 
They speak instead 

Whose voice is strong. 



They plead — your own : 

Alfred, to Shakspere, — Eliot, Hampden, Vane, — 
Your Milton, and your Cromwell ; with a chain 
Of words and deeds they draw you to our side, — 
Nor lived and died 

For us alone. 



They hold our hands, 
Bring us together. Can we keep aloof .'' 
Once did you answer : " Under heaven's roof, 
Thicker is blood than water ! " Let it be, — 
Not neighbourly. 

But brother lands ! 



ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

Ay ! the world through, 
Brothers, to lead the onset of the Free. 
The heritage that WicklifFe left us we 
Bear to mankind, our firm-united strength 
Reaching the length 

Of False and True. 



Brothers ! that word 

Makes Tyranny weak ; Wrong flies, nor looks behind, 

Driven as dry leaves before the herald wind 

That clears the way for Spring's most gentle flowers. 

"O waiting hours ! 

Your plaint is heard. 

Land named of hope ! 

Our best have hail'd the promise of thy growth ; 

Surely hath honour's race-ground room for both 

America and England, side by side, 

Yet leaving pride 

Sufficient scope. 



New England ! ours 

Art thou, as England 's thine : thy children own 

The common parentage. Nor they alone, 

But wheresoe'er is heard our English tongue — 

Wo rid-widely flung 

For coming: hours. 



ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

Be with us then, 

Thou greater England ! second but in time : 

Our age shall welcome our young giant's prime, 

As in his sons a fether takes delight. 

Proud of the height 

Of younger men. 

O'erstride our fame ! 

Step past the extremest stretch of our renown ! 

Wreathe round Columbia's head the laurel crown 

Our old heroic worth can well assign ! 

The crown be thine — 

In England's name ! 



For we are one, — 
In race, in will, in energy the same : 
Twin aspirations of one-tongued flame. 
England were fain to see you climb beyond 
Our hopes most fond. 

And all we have done. — 



So would my thought. 
Prayerful, prophetic, lark-like soaring, rise 
Fluttering its eager wings in farthest skies : — 
Weak pinions of desire ! ye must descend ; 
What wish may lend 

The power ye sought ? 



ENGLAND TO AMERICA 

Stay here your course, 

Between the sheltering sheaves at Bryant's feet ; 
And ask of him, whose song is wisely sweet, 
To uplift the theme of these remitted chords 
With his own words 

Of poet force ! 

In youthful days, 

Across the ocean hearkening to his lyre, 

I turn'd from Wordsworth's verse sublime to admire 

The Transatlantic Master first discern'd ; 

And my soul yearn'd 

For Bryant's praise. 

To-day I bend 

At his high threshold. Might I seek a boon, 
I would bespeak his voice to lead the tune 
Of English Friendship. Poet ! Seer ! arise 
With prophecies 

From friend to friend ! 




